


Shared Grief

by steelneena



Series: CR1 Oneshots and Short Series [11]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Hopeful Ending, POST 115, built from the dregs of the campaign wrap up, lots of talk about canonically dead family members., typical de rolo brand angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:27:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25062361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelneena/pseuds/steelneena
Summary: Vax is gone and Vex doesn't know how to go on when half herself is lost forever. But she isn't the only one grieving.
Relationships: Percival "Percy" Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III/Vex'ahlia
Series: CR1 Oneshots and Short Series [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1412188
Comments: 4
Kudos: 60





	Shared Grief

**Author's Note:**

> Tal fed us lots of breadcrumbs and I'm just having my fun with them.

The first couple weeks after their return from Pandemonium, Percy spends a lot of his time doting on Vex. Initially at least, she doesn’t mind. Everything is terrible without Vax, now that she has the time to dwell on the fact that she is without him. There’s a lot crying fits, mostly unintentional and unexpected that overcome her when she least expects it. Seeing her own face in the mirror, cracking a joke and then looking to see him laugh at it, only for the sound of his laughter to be absent, walking into his room to find it empty.

It shouldn’t really be so strange. After all, they’d been apart for a whole year, save a few sparing instances. But it is. It is different. Different and horrible. Whereas before she had just reminded herself that she could really see him any time, that is now an impossibility.

So she weeps. Rarely is there a day where she doesn’t spend at least part of it with her eyes red and her cheeks tear stained.

Through it all, Percy is there, a pillar of strength on which she leans heavily, day and night. It takes about a month before the crying stops and the severe melancholy sets in. She spends a lot of time listless in bed, pretending that she’s just tired and lazing about, that she’s not wasting away in mourning. She doesn’t even have it in her to consider how terrible Keyleth must also be feeling, not to mention anyone else.

Of course, the one day she actually finds herself craving the company of her husband to stave off the terribly loneliness she’s feeling, also happens to be one of first that he’s not spent all his energy attempting to distract and comfort her.

It’s late by the time she pulls herself out of bed. The moon sends a silvering glow through the cold stone halls as she walks spectre-like, silent and swathed in a white blanket. First, she checks his workshop. Even though its farther away than his office or the library, it’s the most likely of places to find him. Except, he’s not there. And neither is he snoring lightly at his desk, glasses on his head, papers still in hand, nor even face down in a open tome at one of the long communal tables between the towering bookcases.

Perturbed, but not concerned  _ quite _ yet, she checks the dining room, the courtyards, even Cassandra’s private office, though none to any avail. Though she’s not quite sure why, she wanders outside, down the winding road towards town, the edges of her blanket dragging along in the dust. There, beneath the Sun Tree, she finds her husband. In the darkness, even with the moon, his unnatural shock of snowy hair stands out like a white-hot brand.

As she’s about to call out to him, however softly in the abandoned centre of the city, Vex narrows her eyes, and stops, lips just barely parted.

Some feet away from the enormous base of the trunk, Percy is sitting in the grass, head hung between his knees.

Shoulders shaking.

The fine tips of her ears twitch at the almost imperceptible sound of his weeping.

Vex’s heart constricts, her knees lock, and she nearly turns back. She’s done little but let him care for her, however little she’d responded to the actual ministrations, and now, finally actively seeking his comfort, she’d ignored the possibility that he was grieving, too.

But they are husband and wife, so she steps forward, a little less silently, so as not to spook him, and sits down beside him. He doesn’t look up when she does, nor when she lays her head on his shoulder, and puts her arms about him.

Though he shudders beneath her touch, his tears fall silently.

“My darling…my Percival…”

Normally she’d have anticipated having to prompt him to share more, but he needs no encouragement to start speaking.

“It was here. On this tree. Just as it was when we arrived together the first time. I always…in the back of my mind…I knew. I always knew…”

“Knew what darling?”

“My family. I-I asked Keeper Yennen…”

It comes back instantly, the terribly desperation with which he’d spoken after…after Vax, when out of nowhere he’d admitted to missing his family, his parents and sisters and brothers. And even further back, the memory of the innocent civilians, adults and children alike, strung up to look like Vox Machina as they arrived in Whitestone under Briarwood control.

And with a terrible sinking feeling, Vex understands.

“Oh, Percy…”

“To be quite fair,” he manages, voice barely shivering, “it’s what any new leadership would have done to cement their rule. The de Rolos are not a family whose hands are clean of blood, Vex’ahlia.”

“You don’t have to rationalize what they did my darling. They’re your family. You loved them. What happened here was horrible.”

For the first time since she saw him sitting there, he shows his face. And for the first time, in the face of her beloved, of her husband, Vex’ahlia realizes just how young he really is. For all his aristocratic speech, for all his refined bearing, and mature looks, her Percival is young. Too young for the pain shining in his eyes where the tears well, threatening to spill over further.

Her already broken heart breaks again.

She’d forgotten. She’d spent a whole month lost in her own sorrow while he supported her in her most immediate loss, and completely forgot his own, groundbreaking admission. She’d seen then the almost odd surprise at his realization, like he’d never properly considered how much he had loved them, and how much he had lost beyond his family’s station and ancestral home, as if Vax’s…as what happened with Vax had woken him from a long, deep sleep and into the terrible bruising truth, leaving his heart unshielded from the pain of that now distant loss.

But no matter how long ago, it happened, it makes his pain no less significant than her own.

“What happened here was inevitable.” His retort carries none of its usual bite. “We isolated ourselves and when allies could have been a benefit, we had none but the wolves we let beyond our doors.”

“Well, we’re not isolated now. And you never will be again, not so long as I am beside you. I won’t let you isolate yourself or this city. I promise.” She nuzzles her nose against his cheek, lips just barely brushing his skin before pulling back. “It’s alright to weep for them, my darling. Not all tears are an evil. You are allowed, my love. You’ve kept it all inside for so long, but now...there’s time, Percy. Time to grieve.” She cannot help but huff a sad sigh. “You’ve been my pillar this whole time, and I am so grateful to love and be loved by you through the most difficult thing I’ve ever endured. Let me be your pillar, Percy. Let me shoulder your woes, too.” 

Again, his eyes shine up at her, child behind man, before he sags against her side and finally, finally, lets out the anguished sob that’s built inside him since the day the Briarwoods betrayed his family. 

In the moonlight, they hold one another, in the shadow, their grief is laid bare. 

They may be both crumbling, but instead of shattering on the ground, they come to rest in one another instead, stabilizing the fall. 

It is enough. 


End file.
